A Wrinkle in Time
by DJ Lee
Summary: He was supposed to return to life and defeat Voldemort. He was NOT supposed to be hurled back in time and effectively cause a wrinkle in it along the way. Nothing ever seems to go right for Harry...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was created for entertainment purposes only and if requested to be removed, it will be done immediately and without complaint.

**Note:** The first chapter takes place sometime during the seventh book and will be completely in Petunia's perspective. Every chapter following this will be in Harry's perspective and the pace will definitely pick up by chapter three so please bear with me until then if it seems boring.

**A Wrinkle in Time  
**Chapter 1

**Year: 1998**

Harry gulped as the full reality of what he had to do hit him. He was to allow Voldemort to _kill_ him; not something he put first on his list of priorities. However, according to the prophecy there was to be only one winner, one survivor. He clenched his fists as he marched slowly and steadily through the forest to where he knew Voldemort to be and hoped that it wouldn't hurt too much. Just as the thought ran through his head, it was over and all Harry could see was a sea of blackness and a numbness he didn't know if death was supposed to bring. After all, it wasn't as if he had ever died before.

* * *

**Year: 1981**

Petunia Evans ran a hand through her hair messily and slumped onto the sofa as exhaustion took over. Due to not attending any sort of college or university, there were not that many job opportunities for her. Currently she was working at a local supermart as a cashier and her shift had been incredibly long, stuck amongst annoying customers and co-workers.

She didn't know where things went wrong. During the later years of high school, she had dated a boy a few years older than she who attended the nearby university and they had hit it off great. They even married, had a house together and everything. But it just seemed as if luck was not meant for her because shortly after she married her mother had been diagnosed with cancer and her chances of survival was slim. Petunia's father had actually died in a car accident not long after her mother had passed away. The only family she had left was Lily and there was no way she would ever talk to her again, not after how queer she had become from that freakish school. Any post she received went straight into the trash bin and any telephone calls were ignored.

Vernon had actually been hoping for a child (Dudley, he wanted to name him) and when he learned that she was having trouble conceiving, they tried for a long time until finally they grew apart. Petunia had found Vernon cheating on her with another woman one day when she had come home early from a friend's house due to not feeling well. It didn't take long afterwards for them to file the divorce papers.

She hoped that Vernon and his _Dudders_ were having the time of their lives, she thought bitterly to herself at the memory.

As she closed her eyes, she wondered just when her life was going to get better. After that fiasco with Vernon, she had found herself almost wishing for a child and that emptiness at not being able to have one clawed at her heart. She found out that Lily recently gave birth to a son; something Petunia had caught a glance at from one letter, amongst the letters she had started keeping after the divorce for some reason unknown to her. Most of them were unopened and unread, merely sitting on the counter taking up space. She almost wanted to reconcile so that she could see her nephew for herself and to see what holding a baby was like before she snapped out of her thoughts. Petunia sighed to herself, berating herself for allowing her thoughts to even go down that path again and was about to go wash up before making dinner when the doorbell rang.

Petunia caught a quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall and wondered to herself who could possibly be visiting at this hour. Curiously and suspiciously, she edged toward the door and looked out the peephole. There was no one there. She entertained the idea of the neighborhood children playing a prank on her, but even then the idea didn't make sense since most of the children would've been in bed a long time ago. Not knowing where the compulsion to open the door anyway came from, Petunia opened the door and looked down the empty hall of the apartment building carefully before her sights finally fell on the bundle on her doorstep.

In a small basket was a beautiful baby boy with thick black hair and a chubby face wrapped in a warm blanket. On top of the basket lay a small note, but what really caught Petunia's attention was the fresh wound (which would no doubt turn into a scar) on the baby's forehead. As she gingerly picking up the basket with the baby into her flat, her thoughts were running like crazy in her mind. Who could've left a baby on someone else's doorsteps? Who would even _do_ such a thing?

Petunia placed the basket carefully on the table and then extracted the note, anxious, suspicious, and nervous about what it contained. After reading the note, tears sprung to her eyes as she realized just what happened and what it meant.

Sleeping in the small basket now lay her only family member left, Harry James Potter, and her heart clenched for not reconciling with her sister sooner.

* * *

For a long time Petunia remained still as she watched the baby inhale and exhale in his sleep, the tears long dried on her face, leaving traces on her smooth unblemished skin. How could anyone leave this child to her? After how Petunia had treated Lily, she was the last person she ever expected to be given custody of what meant the world to her sister. Then came the next dilemma; would she even be a suitable caretaker? She'd never taken care of one let alone held a baby before and she worried more than she had ever in her life. So lost in her thoughts was she that she failed to notice when Harry had stirred and woken. He was quiet for a while and then slowly started to cry as confusion and fear washed over his little features.

Petunia was snapped out of her thoughts as she heard the wails of her nephew and immediately sprung to her feet. She had no idea what was wrong with Harry and the thought that he might be hungry flitted through her mind. Nervously and frantically raising her arms and holding her hands strangely, she wondered how and what was the proper way to hold a child. Gritting her teeth as she decided to just wing it, Petunia grabbed Harry from his torso, just under his arms and held him to her chest with his head resting against her shoulder. He was too big to hold like an infant from what she had briefly seen a few mothers do so she hoped and assumed that this was the correct way to hold a child of Harry's size.

The cries were not diminishing, if anything Harry started to thrash around in her arms and she worriedly tried her best to keep a good grip on the child. She tried to make some cooing sounds she heard a few mothers do to their children and wondered briefly if it would even work. Petunia had no idea why she started to bounce Harry lightly as she cooed and held him to her, but that seemed to do the job. Before long, Harry had started to quiet down and Petunia hesitantly moved Harry slightly away from her shoulder and sighed with relief to see that he had completely calmed down and wanted to curl up to her again.

Petunia let out a little sigh. "I assume that you weren't hungry, just scared and confused, right?"

Harry merely snuggled up to her shoulder.

* * *

**Year: 1984**

Harry was now four years old and was growing up remarkably. Petunia couldn't believe how fast Harry grew, though after seeing the other children in the kindergarten she realized that that was not a bad thing. It meant that Harry was growing normally, though a tad bit on the thin side and Petunia was definitely glad for that, seeing as her meager funds from her job wasn't much to live on.

And today was just another day of the week where Petunia needed to spend her time at work while Harry went to kindergarten.

"But _mummy_!" whined Harry as he tried to follow Petunia out of the kindergarten.

"Harry, you know that Mummy has to go to work," Petunia told the sniffling Harry, using reason to persuade the boy to stay.

"I don't care! I miss you!" Harry responded indignantly and pouted as he crossed his arms.

Petunia let out a small sigh and an amused smile before she ruffled Harry's hair fondly. "But if Mummy doesn't go to work, how is she supposed to buy you that new toy truck for your birthday?"

Immediately the little boy's bright green eyes lit up. "Really?" he asked excitedly.

"It's the red one you showed me last time," Petunia said with a smile, remembering a time when she took Harry shopping and they briefly visited the toy store. They were low on money as they usually were, so Petunia had been unable to buy any of the toys Harry wanted, but Harry was such a good boy and very understanding that in the end he left the store with his mother without complaints even though Petunia could see the longing in the boy's eyes.

Harry immediately clung to Petunia for a quick hug and then said quickly before scrambling back inside, "Love you, Mummy! See you later!"

Petunia shook her head at the boy's antics but couldn't help but laugh at how adorable they were as well. She let out a small sigh, stood up and patted her clothes free from dirt before walking down the street to the closest bus stop.

* * *

**Year: 1987**

There were times when Petunia wondered if she was a good mother or not. Most of the other children were all smiles and had new clothes and new toys whereas Harry only received new clothes when he outgrew his old ones or when she could afford them, which wasn't much of the time. Even the amount of toys that Harry had in his room was little compared to the other kids. She never knew that being a single mother would be this hard, especially since Harry lacked a father figure in his life unlike the other kids. But compared with having time for herself and going back to school to earn a degree for more money versus raising Harry, Petunia wouldn't give Harry up for the world, even if that meant they were living in poverty.

Petunia couldn't help but think how lucky she was to have such a special kid as Harry. He hardly if ever made a fuss and it wasn't often when he would ask for something, though Petunia could tell what he wanted just from his longing gazes as they traveled past certain stores. Usually Petunia stored that information for later when she saved up enough to buy Harry a great birthday or Christmas present. Another thing Petunia noticed was that Harry seemed to have an unhealthy attraction to the library. Although she did spot Harry playing with other kids his age and the neighborhood children, he went to the library more than the average child. Petunia smiled wryly as she remembered her own sister and her love of books.

Over the years her wages didn't improve by much even as she switched jobs, but it was enough to live on. It was only her thoughts of Harry that pushed her and energized her through the day just so she could go home all that much sooner. As soon as she was done for the day, she went straight home and came home to a great surprise.

Harry excitedly raced to his mum when she came back home and relieved the babysitter of her duties. "Mum! Look! Look!"

Petunia carefully grabbed the certificate and ribbon that Harry was showing her and beamed with joy and excitement at the boy. "First place in the school spelling bee! This calls for a celebration!" Petunia exclaimed as she picked Harry up and carried him to the kitchen. "Do you want to go celebrate outside?" she asked as she dropped her belongings off on the counter.

"No way! Mum's cooking is the best!" Harry exclaimed with a toothy grin that was not so toothy since he was missing his two front teeth.

A grin broke out on Petunia's face as she walked around the counter towards Harry. "You sure know how to flatter your mother!" said Petunia as she grabbed onto the boy and began a tickle attack as Harry laughed and shrieked happily through the tickles.

* * *

**Year: 1989**

While it was not often, Harry occasionally gave her some trouble to stress over. This was one of those times.

"Harry!" yelled Petunia as she followed the dark hair boy stomp to his room. "Harry! Get back here this instant, young man!"

Harry didn't deter in his path and continued to walk down the hall. Not too long after a loud _SLAM!_ was heard.

Petunia let out a weary sigh and ran her hand tiredly through her hair before marching to her nephew's room and reached for the doorknob, only to discover that the door was locked. Banging on the door, Petunia called out, "Harry James Potter-Evans! Open the door this instant!"

Instead of getting a response, Harry remained infuriatingly silent.

"Harry!" she yelled again. When that didn't work, she went to grab the key and burst open the door the moment it was unlocked.

"Harry James Potter-Evans! Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you!" she scolded as she walked up to the boy who was sitting on the bed with his knees hugged to his chest.

Harry purposefully huffed and turned away from her, but all it managed to do was highlight the nasty bruise on his cheek.

Petunia shook her head in dismay at his behaviour. She sat down at the edge of his bed and placed a hand on his arm, but he merely flinched and scooted farther away. Deciding that being angry with him was not going to work, Petunia counted to ten slowly in her head and then asked in a calmer voice, "Harry… Harry, sweetie. Why aren't you willing to tell me about why you got into a fight?"

Harry's face scrunched up in anger for a brief few seconds before it disappeared, but he still refused to say or do anything.

"Aren't you going to at least give me a reason to not ground you?" she tried, tilting her head sideways to look at Harry even though he kept shifting his gaze away from her.

"No. As far as I'm concerned, they deserved it!" Harry spat.

"Harry!"

"They did!" he exclaimed as he finally turned to face Petunia, eyes full of tears, shining behind his glasses. "They've been making fun of me the whole year about how poor we are, how you and I don't look alike, about how my real parents probably don't want me or love me…"

Petunia's eyes suddenly softened as she realized the implications of Harry's confession. "Oh Harry…"She reached out and pulled Harry to her in a comforting hug, running her hand comfortingly through his messy hair. "Oh Harry… just because I'm really your aunt doesn't mean I love you any less. I'm still your mum and you meant the world to your parents! If they hadn't gotten into an accident, they'd be showering you with so much love you'd be hiding from them to avoid all the hugs and kisses…"

Harry gave a watery smile and a small laugh at the comment as he imagined himself hiding in the closet waiting for his parents to walk past him in their search around the hour for him. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so," answered Petunia as she kissed the top of Harry's head. They remained in the embrace for a few more moments before Petunia said with an amused smile, "But I'm still going to ground you."

"Bugger."

* * *

**Year: 1991**

It wasn't that long ago that Petunia entrusted Harry with his unsupervised walks home. Usually he'd be dropped off by the school bus or the neighborhood babysitter would pick him up, but after Harry proved his maturity and his ability to take care of himself, Petunia had reluctantly granted him permission. That still didn't put her heart at ease though because most days she found herself staring at the clock when school was supposed to let out, wondering if Harry had made it home safely or not.

Tears streamed down Petunia's cheeks as she clutched Harry's limp and cold hand in hers. It was only a few hours ago that Harry had gotten into an accident and was hit with a car on the walk back home. The hospital contacted her immediately and she rushed to the hospital as fast as her legs could carry. Luckily the doctor told her that the injuries weren't too serious. Harry had a few bruised ribs, a fractured arm, and a mild concussion, but that did little to ease her worries since Harry had yet to wake up. She highly doubted that she would be able to stop worrying even after the boy woke up.

"Harry… wake up! Don't make me any more worried than I already am… so just wake up!" Petunia cried as she clutched tightly to Harry's hand and buried her head against his chest.

There was no response for several long minutes as Petunia continued to weep until finally, she felt his fingers twitching in hers. Surprised and elated at the sign, Petunia lifted up her head and waited anxiously for Harry to open his eyes.

It was several long moments before Harry fully gained consciousness. His eyes crinkled and then blinked several long times before finally, Harry turned to her quizzically as if seeing her for the first time in a long time and asked confusedly, "Aunt Petunia?"

Petunia's heart felt as if it stopped and her grip slacked a bit at the unusual greeting. Harry _never_ called her Aunt Petunia. Something was wrong and she didn't like it one bit.

"Where am I? Last I remember, I was in forest and was heading to Voldemort," he said weakly, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

* * *

**A/N: This is my first ever Harry Potter story and it feels more difficult that I thought to write it out. After looking around at sea of time travel stories, I wanted to have my own go at it. I don't want to follow everything from the books down to the nitty gritty details so there will be some discrepancies (fair warning!) here and there. **

**Also, I am currently looking for a beta reader for this story for those who are interested. As listed, this is a Harry/Hermione story so those that are a fan of this couple are preferred. Neutral pairing could work as well. Thank you for your time and I hope that this doesn't blend in with all the other time travel stories. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was created for entertainment purposes only and if requested to be removed, it will be done immediately and without complaint.

**Note:** Starting from this chapter onward everything will be from Harry's perspective.

**A Wrinkle in Time**  
Chapter 2

Petunia's blood turned cold as she processed what her nephew had just uttered. V-Voldemort… Harry said that he was fighting that mental basket case that had been the one to murder both her sister and brother-in-law! As far as she knew, Harry had no clue as to who Voldemort was since she had never told him the true tale of how his parents had died. As she tried her best to regain her composure, Petunia asked shakily, "H-Harry, sweetie… what else do you remember?"

* * *

Harry's head hurt a lot and he wondered why. Was he dead? Or was he somewhere else? The forest maybe? Everything looked so blurry… After a moment of staring at blurs it occurred to him that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He reached an arm out, but found that it was bound by something and was hardly mobile, so he used his other arm to grope around for his glasses.

Immediately a pair of hands enclosed his and pressed what he assumed to be his glasses in them. Harry awkwardly shoved them onto his face and took his first real glance around the room. It was small and the lights in the ceiling were blinding… They looked like muggle lights. The walls were painted an unflattering shade of pink that made Harry feel a bit sick to his stomach and the view outside the curtained windows was highly unflattering. Finally after his small little examination and his head pulsing like he had fallen off his broom with his head breaking his fall, Harry turned in the general direction where his glasses had been given to him and was highly surprised to see his Aunt Petunia staring worriedly back at him. Her face was thinner than Harry remembered and her hair was already starting to grey. There were also bags under the eyes and crow's feet showing indicating aging and loss of sleep. Even her clothes looked shabbier than he remembered, though they looked as if they were work clothes rather than her usual clothes.

"Aunt Petunia?"

Harry felt the hand gripping his unbound hand slacken its grip, but made no comment about that, a little confused as to _why_ Aunt Petunia was even touching him in the first place. "Where am I? Last I remember, I was in the forest and was heading to Voldemort…"

There was a small heavy silence for a while after he asked his question and Harry wondered if his aunt even knew what had been happening at the time. He hadn't seen her since he turned seventeen and had left Privet drive forever. The silence was beginning to eat away at Harry as neither spoke, but just when he was about to give up and say, "never mind," his aunt had spoken, albeit in a rather shaky voice that seemed filled with fear and concern. "H-Harry, sweetie… what else do you remember?"

What was with the weird way his aunt addressed him? Harry, sweetie? It reminded him a bit of the way she used to coo over her Duddy-kins and that made Harry blanch at the memory. Aunt Petunia was still staring at him expectantly and Harry wondered why until he remembered that she had asked a question. Harry's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "I don't know… the last I remember, I was supposed to… let Voldemort kill me…"

Harry could feel his aunt's alarm as her grip instantly tightened over his hand and he wondered briefly if she would be able to break it with how tightly she was gripping him. But that thought was forgotten as his aunt's shrill voice gained his attention. "What do you mean _let_ Voldemort kill you!"

Harry groaned as he tried to recall the trip but he ended up drawing a blank and was clearly frustrated as he let out a growl. "I can't remember anything else after that! All I know and remember is that it was necessary." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall anything else but came up blank. Giving up, he opened his eyes to stare blankly ahead until something hit him. Where was he? It was obviously a muggle hospital since nothing in there looked like the infirmary at Hogwarts or St. Mungos since there was way too many Muggle accessories and equipment around the room.

"Aunt Petunia! Why am I in a muggle hospital? What happened to me? Do you know what happened to the others? Are my friends okay? Is Voldemort dead? What happened to his followers?"

Harry's frantic questions were very hard to keep up with as Petunia found as he started sprouting out more questions after taking only a few seconds to breathe. Petunia finally couldn't take it anymore and grabbed the boy's shoulders, shaking him and telling him to calm down. His eyes were wide with shock and fear.

"Harry," Petunia said tiredly. "I have no idea what you are talking about! What's this about a Dumble-something and about weasels?"

"W-what…?" Harry's head swam as questions were shot back at him, but judging from the way his Aunt talked she definitely didn't know any of the answers he sought. He calmed down slightly, accepting the fact that he'd have to find someone else to answer his questions. As he lied there, there was something else that Harry felt was strange but couldn't place. As he took another look at his aunt, realization struck him. "Aunt Petunia… where are Uncle Vernon and Dudley?"

Silence filled the room again for a long while and it was beginning to put Harry on edge when all his aunt did was stare at him with this stunned look on her face. Was his question _that_ unusual? Usually those three were joined at the hip; they were seen almost everywhere outside of school and work. Eventually after a long silence his aunt demanded in an eerily calm voice, "Tell me about yourself."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Just do it." Even though her voice was strict, he could see the fear and conviction in her eyes. "Tell me _everything_."

Harry sighed as he was left with no choice but to obey. He knew how stubborn his aunt could be. "Where to begin… My name is Harry James Potter; age seventeen born on July 31st, 1980 born to Lily Evans and James Potter. I was one years old when I was sent to live you, Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Vernon and Dudley. I was constantly bullied by Dudley and was friendless throughout my childhood. I stayed at number four Privet Drive until I was eleven when I was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." And he told her the story of the rest of his seven years in the wizarding world, leading to the final showdown with Voldemort in the forest.

Harry noticed that his aunt remained strangely quiet throughout his tale, never once uttering a word, not even after he ended the story, which he found strange. His aunt was very opinionated and never hesitated to say what was on her mind. The silence only lasted a little while longer before she spoke, her voice a strange combination of emotions that Harry could not decipher.

"Harry… do you promise me that what you've told me is the truth?"

"Of course! I would never lie about something concerning Voldemort!" he exclaimed, miffed at being accused a liar for something this important.

He watched as she heaved a sigh and then she said slowly and hesitantly, "Then I need you to keep quiet and keep your questions to the end as I explain a few things to you."

Harry grudgingly accepted.

"First of all, you're here because you were in an accident on your walk home from school."

If that didn't send alarm bells ringing in Harry's head, then he didn't know what did. To him, school was Hogwarts; and the last he remembered attending school was the previous year.

"You are Harry James Potter-Evans and I am your only remaining relative. As such, I have adopted you and have become your mum."

Harry's head swerved to look at her so fast he could've sworn he got whiplash.

"I am divorced and have no children aside from you. Also…" At this, Petunia seemed to pause, unsure of how to continue. After mentally debating and figuring out what to say, she said, "Harry, it is 1991, you are ten years old going on eleven and you have never attended Hogwarts before."

Harry was quite certain that his mouth was open so wide that flies could fly in. He was also certain that this was all one horrible prank or nightmare until he finally looked down at his body and realized with a start that indeed his body was a lot smaller than he remembered and he had his arm in a cast. "B-but how?"

Aunt Petunia closed her eyes and shook her head sadly as if to say that she herself did not know. "At first I was quite alarmed that something had happened to you. I was afraid that your concussion as minor as it was, had caused some sort of problem with your head until you mentioned Voldemort. I knew that something was seriously wrong if you knew about Voldemort since no one, not even I had mentioned him to you and it could not have been from your head injury either. That was why I had you explain yourself to me, Harry."

Harry was speechless, unsure of what to say but suddenly understanding why there was a lack of doctors ever since he woke up. "Is that why you delayed calling the doctor to check on me?"

His aunt nodded gravely. "It is. But right now I am going to call on Dr. Samuels and if we are to sort out this little fiasco out later back at home, I suggest you go with the information I've given you otherwise the doctor would notice that something is amiss and I don't quite fancy having to see my son sent off to the insane asylum."

Harry remained obediently quiet as his aunt went to fetch the doctor. Even though his mind was currently swirling in chaos from what could've happened, he knew that the first thing he needed to do was get out and it seemed that it would be impossible without his aunt's help, seeing as he was not in good shape even though he had suffered worse injuries before and he didn't have a wand either.

* * *

Harry didn't exactly pay attention to the direction his aunt gave the cab driver, but merely stared out of the window at the passing scenery. The overnight stay at the hospital had been awkward to say the least since neither of them knew what to say to each other let alone act around each other. It wasn't until they started going down a neighborhood that he knew for sure wasn't on the way to Privet Drive that he turned to his aunt, who wore a strangely conflicted expression on her face.

"Aunt Petunia?"

There was a slight pause before she turned to him. "What is it, Harry?"

Her tone was polite and distant, as if talking to a stranger. Harry was used to her sneering face or looks of disgust. So this was all new to him. "Where are we going?"

"Home," was the quick and short reply.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he remembered the different streets they were currently heading down on. "But isn't home that way?" he asked, pointing somewhere to behind him to the right.

Aunt Petunia raised an eyebrow at his question, which made Harry wonder if he had asked something wrong, like is the moon made of cheese?

"No, Harry. Home is this way," she answered, gesturing down a street that Harry didn't remember walking around before. Shortly, they arrived at their destination and they got off the cab. Harry stared in surprise at the apartment complexes the street was littered with and followed slowly behind his aunt up a couple flights of stairs and down a hall until they stopped at a green door with a bright gold '8' on the front. Aunt Petunia searched for her key in her purse and unlocked the door, allowing Harry to go in first.

Harry hesitantly took a step into the flat, admiring the room from his view at the doorway. The living room was rather small, as was the kitchen. Next to the living room were three doors, which Harry assumed were the two bedrooms and the bathroom. The flat was, as Harry expected, spotless though one door caught his attention with the random drawings taped up on the walls inside the bedroom. Harry headed to the room and noticed that his aunt has closed the front door behind her and was watching him. As he came to a stop at the wall, he let his eyes rove over the random pieces of papers. Some were literary quotes which he barely remembered from his school days, others that he was sure that Hermione would know, and a few drawings here and there. Some were random objects and people that were crudely drawn, others more refined as if he had been practicing. But what caught his attention the most was the picture frame that sat on the small desk to his right.

Harry picked up the frame and stared quizzically at the beaming faces of his Aunt Petunia and himself at what looked like the zoo. She had her arm around his shoulders, pulling him up next to her and both had large happy smiles at the camera. Harry had never gone to the zoo before and wondered briefly if it was fun. It must be if he and his aunt were smiling. He dared to take a look over his shoulder where his aunt continued to watch him and turned his gaze back to the picture. He and his aunt must've clearly loved each other as mother and son if her behavior around him and the picture was anything to go by.

He replaced the picture back onto the desk and admired the rest of the room. It was a light blue with a small bed in one corner, a small nightstand with a lamp, a small desk in front of the window and a small bookcase off to the side. Harry was slightly surprised at the amount of books the bookcase held. Though it was few, it was a lot more than he remembered ever having at that age. All in all, the room was nice and a lot better than the small bedroom he had occupied during the summers at Privet Drive.

Harry was suddenly broke out of his thoughts as his aunt knocked lightly on the open door and asked if he was hungry. He was about to decline, not used to his aunt asking about his wellbeing let alone if he was hungry that it was a great surprise when his stomach let out a large growl. Harry felt his face flush in embarrassment as his aunt gave him an amused smile and came back shortly with a sandwich and a glass of orange juice.

* * *

Harry was trying to settle down as best as he could onto his new bed in his new room. Everything felt so strange yet comforting at the same time. He wondered briefly if this life he led was what he would've had if his Aunt Petunia raised him by herself. He shook his head, not knowing what to think. A little while ago they had sat down to an awkward dinner. He had been preparing himself to cook when his aunt gave him a bemused look and shooed him off to watch the telly. Harry rarely watched the telly since his overweight cousin, Dudley, was always glued to the couch munching on something that was a mess that Harry felt he was better off in the cupboard away from the nasty sight. His aunt's cooking was better than he remembered it being, not that he had the taste engraved in his mind or anything. It just tasted different.

She had told him about how tomorrow was the last day of school for the term, which surprised Harry, and that she called in about his injury so he was excused. Now, he had the rest of the summer free for himself. Harry wasn't quite sure of what to do to pass the time during the summer with since he usually had chores to do when he lived with the Dursleys. Now, he lived in a small apartment with his aunt that could be cleaned in a relatively short amount of time and there was no garden to tend to either. He scratched his head at the awkward thought of not having to tend to a garden.

"Why don't you play with the neighborhood kids in a round of football? Or if you want, I can take you to the library," Aunt Petunia had suggested.

Harry scrunched up his nose at the idea of going to the library, but then realized that his aunt probably had suggested it because it was a favorite past time of his. He had shrugged and that was the end of their conversation as they bid each other awkwardly good night.

Harry had wondered what his appearance at this time and world (if he could call it that) meant. Why was he here in this time? What happened to the other Harry? How was he supposed to get back to his own time? Harry was pondering this for so long that he was afraid of getting a migraine. All he knew was, if this was a second chance, as awkward a few changes had been, then he'd take it and find a way to take down Voldemort faster. He wasn't sure how he'd manage without his friends, but he'd have to for the time being. Harry let out a sigh, not even sure if he'd even be getting a Hogwarts letter. It'd be just his luck to somehow wind up back in time with a loving aunt after the Voldemort fiasco just to find out that he would not be attending Hogwarts and be stuck finding a solution to everything by himself.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and decided not to dwell on it since he was very tired and the moment he closed his eyes in the dark room, he fell asleep.

* * *

The following morning Harry woke up bright and early as was his habit. After a visit to the bathroom, he went to the kitchen to make himself and his aunt some breakfast. As he tied on the apron around his smaller frame, Harry couldn't help but notice how awkward everything felt now. His fingers were shorter and slimmer, his legs no longer as long, and his line of sight barely acceptable for cooking. What he marveled at the most was the clothes he wore; they were fitting. He hardly if ever had any fitting clothes in all of his life since most of them had been hand-me-downs from Dudley, who was not exactly the slimmest kid of the block.

He went about cooking for only a few minutes before he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and then an immediate gasp of shock before the turner was ripped from his hands and the stove turned off.

"Harry!" Aunt Petunia gasped in alarm as she pushed him away from the stove. "You know that you're not allowed to touch the stove! And your arm! You still need to rest!"

Harry was confused. It was the same as last night yet not the same. Whereas the night before he had expected that he was relieved of his cooking duties due to his recent discharge from the hospital, so therefore he was expected to be back in action the following morning. It seemed as if he was wrong since Aunt Petunia treated him in a way that Harry was most unfamiliar with—it seemed loving almost, though Harry wasn't quite sure on that with his aunt—and lacked the total awkwardness of before. She must've forgotten that he was not _her_ Harry.

"Aunt Petunia, it's fine," said Harry as he reached forward for the turner again. "The sausages will be done momentarily."

His aunt seemed to quiet her protests once her brain caught up with her with the recent events from yesterday. She cleared her throat awkwardly but did not budge from her position by the stovetop. Instead she gently nudged Harry in the direction of the dining table. "Sorry about that. Why don't you sit down at the table, Harry while I finish up breakfast?"

Harry was about to protest when he saw her strict face and immediately hung his head, relenting and trudging to the table.

Breakfast was just as awkward as last night's dinner and Harry couldn't help but wonder if the awkwardness would ever leave. Soon after they were finished eating, Aunt Petunia was preparing to leave to work and as she crossed the room to the door, she suddenly froze as if something just occurred to her.

"Sally, the girl next door is supposed to come over in a minute to babysit…" she trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"I'm sensing a 'but'," said Harry, wondering if he'd have to put up with another stranger for the majority of the day.

Aunt Petunia nodded slowly. "Yes, but… since you are technically old enough to look after yourself even though you look like you're eleven, I could allow you to stay home alone. But then to the world, you're still eleven, not to mention how uneasy I'd still be if I left you alone…"

Harry understood her dilemma and heaved a sigh. "It's all right, Aunt Petunia. Let the babysitter come over so that we can keep up appearances."

"Are you sure?" She seemed uncertain.

Harry merely nodded.

Suddenly she approached him and engulfed him in a hug, something Harry was still not used to from his aunt. She gave him a kiss on the top of his head, his eternally messy hair sticking out in random directions. "I will be back as soon as I can." And then she was gone while another girl stepped in through the door with a small greeting passed along the way.

"So…" said the new girl, Sally, if Harry remembered. She appeared to be sixteen, maybe seventeen and had sandy brown hair was slightly above her shoulders and brown eyes. She was dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans. "Excited about the first day of summer, Harry?"

Harry shrugged, not quite sure what to answer. Honestly, his timing was still off after his little trip into time-space travel.

"Not sure?" she said with a smile. "Don't you want to go to the library like you always do?"

Harry almost blanched at the world 'library.' No amount of persuasion could make him go anywhere near the library if it wasn't homework related. However, guessing from the way his babysitter talked and the decorations in his bedroom, Harry could only assume that the other Harry was a bookworm. Great; he hadn't met Hermione yet and he was already considered a bookworm.

"Not today. I feel kind of lazy," Harry decided upon instead.

Sally grinned and made her way to the couch. "That's fine with me. How about we just watch the telly for a bit?"

Harry was amazed how fast the day passed as he stayed in the flat and watched the telly with his babysitter. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been able to watch the telly for such a long amount of time and was honestly surprised that it was already nearing noon when his stomach decided to let out a loud growl.

Sally gave a small laugh before getting up from the couch. "I'd say that's enough telly for now. How about we make some lunch? What do you feel like having, Harry?"

"Anything's fine," answered Harry as he stood up to stretch his slightly stiff joints. As Harry watched the girl go about the kitchen pulling out ingredients from every which way with ease, Harry couldn't help but wonder why she looked kind of familiar. Harry knew that he had never met this girl before since she was obviously a muggle and he hadn't been in contact with any kids older than he was when he was living in Privet Dr. Not much conversation was exchanged between the two during the few hours they were watching the telly, but Harry purposely kept his answers short and vague. Although she had mentioned how he wasn't as talkative today, he told her that he was feeling lazy and quiet. Though she hadn't questioned him at that, Harry knew that she was curious.

The day passed by relatively quickly and Harry liked Sally. She was pretty laid back and didn't push him or ask him uncomfortable answers. She gave him plenty of freedom and allowed him to act as he wanted. Sally ended up being his babysitter for the rest of the week.

As lunch was served for the day and he sat down at the table, it suddenly hit him why the girl seemed familiar. He mentally hit himself for not realizing sooner. "Do you happen to know a girl named Hermione?"

Sally raised an eyebrow at the question. "Hermione? Is she someone that you fancy? Should I be on the lookout so that I can start telling your dirty secrets?"

Although Sally had not answered his question and had instead shot her own questions back at him, Harry couldn't help but notice that she had asked that with a grin that spelt trouble.

His face turned scarlet in embarrassment at her implications. He'd never thought of Hermione _that_ way before.

"Uh…" And technically this Harry had not met Hermione yet, so what was he supposed to say? _Why yes, of course. Hermione, you see is my future best friend that I will share dangerous adventures with on a quest to defeat the evil dark lord that is bent on purifying the world of dirty blood and massacring millions if not billions of people along the way._ Oh yes, _that'll_ go over well. "She's just someone that I met before and I've noticed that you sort of share a resemblance to her," said Harry slowly, hoping that Sally would not ask for clarification.

Sally seemed put out that her little teasing session had ended almost as soon as it started. She was looking forward to teasing Harry about a girl he might potentially fancy after all… Letting out a sigh of disappointment, Sally stuck her fork in her pasta and answered, "Actually I do know someone named Hermione. My cousin is Hermione Granger and she should be in your year for school. She could be the Hermione you're talking about since Hermione is such an uncommon, not to mention unusual name that there can't be that many Hermione's out there."

At the mention of Hermione's full name, Harry perked up. It seemed that Sally and Hermione were related after all. She took his sudden attention as a 'yes.'

"You probably know how smart she is, but not the full details of it. She's extremely brilliant; she's so smart that I get red faced when I compare my accomplishments next to her," Sally said with a small laugh. "She's actually finishing up her first year in university."

Sally shook her head with a proud but amused smile. "Got into a program that allowed her to zoom by in school, she did. But then she'd always been the most studious in the family." Suddenly her eyes dimmed slightly and her tone changed as she said, "Hermione never did have many friends because of how bossy and overly smart she appeared to the other kids, so she was always picked on and made fun of. She was pretty closed up for most of her childhood even though I tried my best to encourage her. I haven't seen her since she went to uni, though I hope she was able to break out of her shell a bit since she'll be around older more mature people."

There was a small silence that followed where Harry absorbed this information while Sally appeared lost in her thoughts. A few more seconds passed before Sally snapped to attention and smiled sheepishly at Harry. "Oh! Sorry about my rambling. I'm an only child and Hermione's my only cousin you see, so I sort of see her more as my little sister than my cousin."

Harry waved off her apology. "It's all right. I understand. If I had a cousin I'd probably be the same way."

Sally merely gave him an appreciative smile, ruffled his eternally messed up hair, and gestured for him to finish his lunch.

The truth was Harry didn't know much of anything about Hermione's home life. All he knew was that she went home to her parents every summer and on winter holidays. She never mentioned her family, though Harry could tell that she loved them fiercely if she went to such drastic measures such as sending her parents away to Australia to keep them safe. Although she had never explicitly mentioned her home life or old school life, Harry got the hint that she wasn't exactly well liked among children in her school. Harry couldn't help but wonder if his Hermione had gone to uni or if this universe was just another discrepancy with his. Either way, Harry felt like a horrible friend.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, I'm surprised that I received as much feedback as I did. I'd like to thank everyone who decided to give my story a chance. As promised, everything from here on out will be from Harry's perspective and will detail his time in the past. So far I have most of the first year done and I've tried to make it as different as I could from other time travel stories. I'm pretty sure you'll spot the differences as the story progresses. I'm also deciding on the chapter cut offs too so the chapters will vary in length.**

**Until then, I'm still looking for a beta reader that is willing to point out plot holes and the likes to me. Once again, thank you all for your time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was created for entertainment purposes only and if requested to be removed, it will be done immediately and without complaint.

**Note:** This is the last chapter pre-Hogwarts and is rather short. The next will be much longer. Like the previous warning, there will be discrepancies so be warned!

**A Wrinkle in Time**  
Chapter 3

Harry still found it strange to witness his aunt's affectionate nature when she forgot from time to time that he was a different Harry, but she seemed to be coping since those occurrences seemed to happen less frequently. But Harry still felt guilty. She actually wasn't a bad person now that he'd seen her under different circumstances, as hard as that was to believe, but he still couldn't be the son that she had raised since he and that Harry were totally different people. What worried him slightly was how sometimes he would recall things that he had never experienced before. He wondered not for the first time if his appearance in this universe had only managed to merge both the Harry's with himself taking the front seat for consciousness. It was because of that, that he also like his aunt had sometimes participated in the shows of mother-son affection, which still scared Harry a bit because of the awkwardness of being himself one moment and then falling into an unconscious behavior the next.

During nights, Harry would sit at his desk devising ways to find and destroy the horcruxes and preventing many of the unpleasant not to mention dangerous incidents during his years at Hogwarts. Harry tried to come up with backup plans to accommodate for any changes this universe may have. So far, he was in a rut for some of the repercussions some of his plans may have. Then there was the whole issue of contacting Ron and Hermione to see whether he was the only one who had gone through this strange time travel phenomenon. He banged his head softly on the table and groaned to himself. If only he had an owl or some other alternative forms of communication, but he doubted that would go over well with the Weasleys... Harry remembered their previous attempts at Muggle communication and he still couldn't help but laugh at the memory. He'd ring Hermione except he didn't have her number and he was partially afraid that she'd think he was a loon and hang up before he could get past his name.

He'd been contemplating these matters for so long that he didn't realize it was already his birthday until his aunt had woke him up bright and early with a large plate of waffles.

"I don't know what you usually do for your birthday, but Harry and I usually enjoy a nice breakfast at home and then we'd spend the day doing what Harry likes. We went to the amusement park last year," she told him as she placed his plate in front of him.

Harry was certain that it was one of those unconscious reflexive moments where he went, "My favorite! Thanks, mum!" and promptly dug in. It wasn't until he was halfway through his food that he realized the slip and looked sheepishly at his aunt. "Um…," he started out, unsure of what to say.

Aunt Petunia merely sent him an assuring smile and ruffled his hair fondly. "It's okay, Harry. Honestly, I've missed hearing you calling me that."

Harry felt a pang of guilt again and finished his breakfast at a slower sedate pace. He was really beginning to think that it wouldn't be long before he'd have all the other Harry's memories.

The duo was just finishing up breakfast when they heard something knocking and scratching at the window. Aunt Petunia seemed frightened and was slowly inching toward the window when Harry recognized what the object outside was.

"It's an owl!" Harry exclaimed as he raced past his aunt and pried the window open.

Immediately the owl flew in and landed on Harry's arm. It lifted a leg and Harry deftly untied the letter, watching as the owl flew out the same way it flew in.

"W-what's that?" his aunt asked in alarm.

"This," said Harry as he looked at the seal and opened the letter, "is my Hogwarts acceptance letter. I've been waiting all summer for it. It basically tells me that I've been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and gives me my list of school supplies."

When Harry turned to face his aunt, her face was drawn in concern, fear, and something else Harry could not identify. "Do you have to go?"

Although the question was mostly out of concern for his wellbeing, Harry could detect a hint of longing in her voice. This mother-son duo had never been apart from each other more than a day before and Harry could tell—no, _knew_— that she'd really be affected by his absence. So even if he wanted to stay (blast that guilty feeling!) Harry knew what was more important. Someone needed to destroy Voldemort and it was unfortunate that he was the only candidate.

He looked his aunt steadily in the eyes and said with determination, "Yes, I must go back and find a way to destroy Voldemort before he could find a way to resurrect himself. The whole world is literally at stake and if I can make all the difference now, then many lives will be saved."

Aunt Petunia looked crestfallen at his answer, but understood where he stood. She'd heard his story and knew the severity of his problem, but that didn't make losing him for the next seven academic school years any easier when she was used to seeing his face every day. "I understand, Harry. Do we… when should we… how do we go about buying your school supplies? And… and… how much do they cost?"

She was worried that her salary and savings might not be enough to pay for Harry's education, hence her hesitance.

Harry mentally went over the figures in his mind and then compared it to his aunt's current salary and savings, but then waved it off instead of telling his aunt. "Don't worry. My vault should have enough money to cover the costs."

She was confused. "Your vault?"

Harry nodded. "In the wizarding world, our bank is called Gringotts and our money is stored in individual vaults which we physically visit to withdraw and deposit. A vast array of things could be placed in the vault besides money since Gringotts is essentially the safest place to store anything of value because it is run by goblins."

"Goblins?"

Harry nodded again. "They're very vicious," he said, as if it explained everything.

Aunt Petunia decided not to comment on that.

"The philosopher's stone that I told you about was stored in one of those vaults," said Harry.

"Oh… all right… so then what do you mean your vault has enough money?" she decided to ask instead.

"Oh," said Harry as he closed the open window. "My parents left me money in my vault. I don't actually know if it's a trust fund or if it's my full inheritance since I was usually too busy to go into the bank, but it should be more than enough to tie me over all seven years through Hogwarts and partially into adulthood until I can find a job."

"I see…" Aunt Petunia said numbly. "So then how do we go about shopping for your school supplies? And where would we find this stuff?" she asked, gesturing to the list of supplies on the letter.

"They can be found at Diagon Alley, the wizarding marketplace for everything from books to cauldrons," Harry said with a grin. "Oh, and pet owls."

"Pet owls…"

Harry nodded. "They're the wizarding way to communicate. Whereas we have telephones and the post office to deliver our mail, wizards use owls to instantly deliver our letters."

Aunt Petunia nodded dumbly as if she was being told this for the first time. It probably was since she hadn't been fond of Lily or anything related to the wizarding world when her sister first received her letter. Since then she had never bothered to learn anything about the wizarding world other than it was a freakish school that her sister had attended. So now the question was how to get to this Diagon Alley?

Almost as if reading her thoughts, a sudden 'pop' was heard and then a woman was standing in the middle of her living room in an emerald green robe and a pointy hat.

Harry immediately recognized the person from the emerald robes to the dark hair straight down to the stern face she wore. He wasn't sure whether he should even be greeting his old professor at all. He noted that it was not Hagrid that came to fetch him this time, but did not comment on it.

Professor McGonagall turned her gaze to Harry, which immediately softened at the sight of the boy. "Harry Potter."

Harry nodded his head enthusiastically. He might as well act like an enthusiastic school boy.

McGonagall then turned her gaze to Harry's aunt. "Miss Evans. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and am here to inform you about the benefits of allowing Harry to attend Hogwarts for his magical education. Are you, Miss Evans, aware of Harry's magical background?"

Aunt Petunia nodded slowly. "Yes, yes… my sister went to Hogwarts herself and married a magical person so it should seem only natural that Harry should be magical as well."

McGonagall nodded at the explanation. "So you should already be informed of what magic is and how dangerous it could be if a child does not properly learn to control his or her magic. With Hogwarts, Harry would be receiving the finest magical education that England has to offer and will be attending Hogwarts for the next seven years. Will you accept this?"

Aunt Petunia hesitated slightly but eventually nodded. "Harry will be in your care."

"Nothing will happen to Harry while under my care. I shall do my best to keep him safe, rest assured," said McGonagall. "Now, shall we go to Diagon Alley to shop for Harry's school supplies?" At Aunt Petunia's questioning look, McGonagall added, "I'm afraid that the only way anyone could access Diagon Alley is through one of three ways: through the back of the Leaky Cauldron, through the floo network, or through apparation. Unfortunately, all three methods require the person to be a witch or wizard, so any muggles that wish to go must be accompanied by a witch or wizard. So, Harry will not be able to access Diagon Alley until he is fitted with a wand."

After explaining about apparition, McGonagall held onto both Harry and Aunt Petunia and apparated them directly into Diagon Alley. They arrived with a pop into the middle of the street and Harry held his breath as the beauty of Diagon Alley filled his vision again. He felt as if it was his first time visiting this magical place all over again and felt the joy and exhilaration filling his veins especially as he spotted _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ out of the corner of his eye.

Meanwhile, his aunt was staring flabbergasted at everything that was occurring through the bustling street, no doubt her first time visiting such a place. When she finally got a handle on herself, McGonagall led the group through Diagon Alley.

After withdrawing some money from Gringotts and Harry's snicker at Aunt Petunia's shocked, pale, and green face from the trip down to the vault, they went about finding Harry his school supplies. Harry obtained most of his supplies quickly, though he almost bolted into _Eeylops Owl Emporium_ to purchase Hedwig. He missed Hedwig terribly and he felt his heart cry out in joy at seeing the snowy white owl once again.

The trip to _Madam Malkin's_ was a slightly different affair since their timing was slightly off, Draco had just left the store when Harry went in so the two boys didn't really get a chance to officially meet. Harry almost laughed at all the disaster that purchasing a wand had caused. He almost cried when his phoenix tail feather wand was pushed in his hand and suddenly all the fun was gone. When McGonagall had her back turned, Harry had quickly whispered to Ollivander about the possibility of having a backup wand ready in case something happened to his, which Harry had a sinking feeling about. Ollivander had agreed and asked for Harry to come in another time for another wand fitting.

Harry had purchased a few extra books outside of his curriculum and when Professor McGonagall gave him a curious look, he told her that it was extra reading. He hoped that that excuse worked since Hermione no doubt bought a _ton_ of extra reading. After McGonagall shrugged off her curiosity, Harry immediately stocked up on several random, but helpful books that shouldn't seem suspicious if one didn't know the true purpose of the purchases.

When they were almost done, Harry had almost glued himself to the glass of _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ as he stared at the broom hanging in the store window. While not in the same league as the Firebolt, the Nimbus series was a thing to admire. Harry's first broom, the Nimbus Two-Thousand hung proudly in the store window and Harry felt a pang of nostalgia wash over him, he knew that it would be useless if he tried to buy the broom now. First years were not allowed to have brooms. Harry briefly wondered if he'd be as lucky to make the Quidditch team again.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that first years are not permitted to own brooms. Perhaps next year," said McGonagall once she caught up with him. There was a slight pause before the said softly and slyly, "Although, if you make the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year to fill our empty Seeker position, there is nothing stopping you from owning one."

A grin split Harry's face. "When are try-outs?"

"The second week of the term, after your first flying lessons. Though we'd have to bend the rules, I'm sure we could work something out," was the curt reply before he was dragged away and it was time to return home.

* * *

That night after an exhausting day at Diagon Alley, thankfully on a day that Aunt Petunia had off, the two collapsed onto the sofa.

"I had no idea that shopping would be this tiring," moaned Aunt Petunia as she rubbed her sore feet.

Harry snickered. "That's because it was your first time to Diagon Alley and you were so over-whelmed from it that you were zipping from place to place faster than me!"

Aunt Petunia shot him a look. "You're one to talk, you've been there before."

Harry shrugged. "Technically, yes and no."

Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes at him. "Well, wash up and off to bed you go."

Harry groaned, but peeled himself off the sofa and made his way to the bathroom.

* * *

**A/N:** Not much happened in this chapter except for Harry going to Diagon Alley. Next chapter is where the fun supposedly starts as Harry finally sets out to go to Hogwarts and re-meets his old friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter copyright J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was created for entertainment purposes only and if requested to be removed, it will be done immediately and without complaint.

**Note:** Starting from here on out Harry will be at Hogwarts. I tried to make Harry's second time in school different than what is usually depicted in the usual time travel stories. Oh, and another thing, out of character-ness will be visible, but it should be explained seeing how Harry had messed with time so some differences should naturally occur. Also, there will be some conversation about time-travel below, but they are my own ideas about the subject matter that is used for the story only.

**A Wrinkle in Time**  
Chapter 4

Time seemed to fly for Harry because before he knew it, it was September 1st, the start of the term. Harry was both anticipating yet dreading it at the same time. After getting Hedwig, Harry had decided against owling the Weasleys and Hermione in case there was some discrepancy in this universe. What if the Weasleys were different? What if Hermione ended up not being a witch? So many things to consider that Harry felt himself going mad just thinking about it. As an extra advantage, Harry had started reading up on other subjects, especially Occlumency. While teacher-less in this regard, Harry at least understood the subject better than he had before and now all he needed was the practical experience. And for that, he needed Professor Snape's help. Harry shuddered, remembering how well the lessons went last time and just hoped that it went better this time.

Aunt Petunia was looking around King Cross weirdly and then back to the ticket. She kept alternating her glances between the ticket and King's Cross until Harry finally couldn't take it anymore and ripped the ticket out of his aunt's hand. "I take it that you've never followed my mum here before?"

At his aunt's no, Harry heaved a sigh. "That ended up being my problem too when I first came here alone and Uncle Vernon just drove off. I had to figure out how to get onto Platform nine and three-quarters by myself. Of course, I asked one of the employees, but he thought I was playing a prank and shooed me off. It wasn't until I heard a woman and her children talking about muggles and how to get onto the platform that I—" Suddenly Harry trailed off as if something just occurred to him. Looking around to see if there were any red-heads in sight, Harry turned to his aunt.

"What's the matter, Harry?" she asked worriedly.

"Do you remember the Weasleys? The wizarding family that I stayed with?" asked Harry.

At Aunt Petunia's nod, Harry continued, "Well, something just occurred to me. That woman and her kids that explained to me how to get onto the platform was the Weasleys but for some reason they were talking as if they were new to this as well, asking where the platform was and all that." At Aunt Petunia's confused look, Harry added, "Mrs. Weasley has seven children. Two of whom graduated before my first year. So, how and why did she forget the platform number and then have her daughter, who starts the year below me, inform her of which platform it was? I've known Mrs. Weasley for seven years and never once when we returned to Hogwarts the following years did she forget."

"Something doesn't add up," said Aunt Petunia.

Harry nodded gravely. "It's as if they were purposely calling my attention with how they were. I think I'd better go over a few events that don't add up later."

"Are you still going to befriend that Ron fellow?"

Harry stiffened. "To tell you the truth, I was going to, but after this sudden realization, I'm not so sure anymore. I mean, Ron was my best friend and he stuck by me through the years…" Harry groaned and shook his head violently from side to side, wondering why his life suddenly got a lot more complicated.

Aunt Petunia grabbed onto Harry's shoulders to stop him and looked him levelly in the eye. "It will be all right, Harry. You know what to look for and what you must do. Just calm down and take things one step at a time, do you hear me?" Harry nodded. "Good. Are you sure you don't need me to go with you?"

"I'll be fine on my own, Aunt Petunia. I've done this so many times, I can do it in my sleep," said Harry.

Although his aunt look less than convinced, Harry patted her hand reassuringly before gripping onto his trolley tightly and making a beeline for the wall between platforms nine and ten. "I'll see you during Christmas holidays!" he called before he disappeared completely through. After a small struggle with loading his trunk on the train, which Harry noted with disappointment was a lot harder than he remembered. Then again, he was older and stronger the last few times he had done that… A few random older years had helped him load his trunk and he was lucky enough that they hadn't bothered asking for his name.

Harry strolled through the train, looking into random compartments, looking for one that he fancied before he spotted one that really stood out to him. In the compartment sat Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. One was holding onto his toad for dear life while the other was in the middle of an explanation about something that Harry could not hear. Harry knocked on the compartment door and slid it open.

"Do you mind if I join you? I'm new to Hogwarts," he asked, looking between his two friends frantically willing for one of them to react to him in some way or form.

Much to his disappointment, all he received were two 'no's and then he was plopped down next to Neville. Hermione wouldn't even look him in the eye so Harry couldn't really gauge her reaction properly.

"We're new to Hogwarts too. My name is Neville Longbottom," said Neville. "My family was afraid that I wasn't magical enough, so you can assume both my surprise and my family's surprise when I received my acceptance letter! I got Trevor, my toad," Neville gestured to the struggling toad in his chubby hands, "as a present."

Harry turned his attention to Hermione after Neville's explanation.

"I'm Hermione Granger and I'm actually muggle-born. Both my parents are dentists," said Hermione quietly. Harry noticed that there was a definite difference in the tone and speech pattern to this Hermione. Whereas his Hermione projected an air of confidence and brilliance, which most people saw as annoyance and bossy know-it-all attitude, this Hermione was more subdued, as if troubled by her own intelligence that she would rather seem invisible to the world than stand out.

"What're dentists?" Neville asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

"People who specialize, examine, and fix other people's teeth so that they're always in good condition," explained Harry, never taking his eyes off Hermione.

The look of confusion never left Neville's face. "But don't you have healers or potions for that?"

"In the muggle world, no," said Harry.

Although Neville didn't really seem to understand all that much, the attention was then shifted to Harry.

"What about you? What's your name?" asked Hermione. She seemed to have noticed his gaze on her, but refused to meet his eyes.

Harry heaved a mental sigh. Hermione's behavior was already a clue, though Harry was sad to say that he hadn't really paid much attention to Neville when they first met to see any differences. And if this was how the conversation was going, then it would seem as if neither Hermione nor Neville were in the same shoes as he was. He pondered Ron for a second before he pushed the thought away, the revelation from earlier still fresh on his mind.

"I live with my aunt and was raised as a muggle," said Harry.

Hermione nodded her head, accepting his explanation before pointing out, "You still haven't told us your name."

Harry scratched his head in slight embarrassment and bracing himself for any negative reactions. "Harry Potter."

There was silence, then a gasp, and the sounds of a toad bouncing away outside the corridor.

"A-are you really _the_ Harry Potter?" gasped Neville.

Harry mentally sighed, forgetting the strange celebrity status he had suddenly discovered in his first year. "Well, I'm Harry Potter, but I'm not sure if I'm _the_ Harry Potter, strong powerful wizard that defeated the Dark Lord when I was a baby that you are talking about."

Neville was still gaping, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Hermione on the other hand, Harry noticed, didn't seem all that affected by his comment.

"Aren't you going to say something?" prodded Harry.

She shook her head. "What do you want me to say? Congratulations on defeating the Dark Lord when you were too young to remember anything and to continue acting as if that was just a technical detail while basking in the glory of it all?"

Harry smiled. "Finally, someone who understands me!" Harry stuck his hand out to her. "I hope we can be good friends."

She returned the smile, even though it was small, and shook his hand. "Me too."

Harry then turned to Neville and offered his hand again. "I hope we can be good friends too, Neville."

Neville grabbed Harry's hand and nodded his head enthusiastically. It was a few moments later when Neville suddenly realized that Trevor was nowhere in sight. "Oh no! Trevor!"

The group of children started looking around the small compartment and looked on with horror at the open compartment doors. "He couldn't have gotten far! Quick, split up!" said Harry as he dashed out the compartment, Hermione and Neville splitting up in the other direction. When Harry was sure that he was far enough and checking the empty compartments, he wordlessly cast a summoning spell and watched in awe as Trevor sudden zoomed out from a nearby compartment. Harry caught Trevor in his hands and holding him tightly, made his way back down to his compartment.

"I've found him!" Harry called down the corridor to his two friends, waiting for them to return. They came running down the corridor moments later, slightly winded from the jog.

"How'd you find him so fast!" huffed Neville as he retrieved Trevor from Harry.

"It was luck. He was only a few compartments away," he explained as they returned to their seats.

It was only roughly a few more minutes before the Hogwarts Express was to take off and already all the compartments were filled up. Harry noted that he had yet to spot Ron or the other Weasleys. It wasn't until the train had started taking off that there was a tentative knock on the door and a red-headed boy popped in.

His face was red, no doubt from running to catch the train and probably from nerves and from embarrassment. "Do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

While Neville and Hermione didn't quite seem to mind, Harry remained in turmoil. What was the whole story concerning the Weasleys? Harry couldn't help but wonder. Since he felt like he was left in the dark concerning his second family, Harry didn't exactly trust Ron as much as he thought he should.

"Thanks," Ron breathed out with a sigh of relief, plopping down next to Hermione. Harry noted that Hermione scooted slightly away from Ron and had to hold back a grin at that. "I'm Ron Weasley by the way."

"Neville Longbottom," said Neville.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione supplied, not looking in Ron's direction.

"Harry." He wasn't up for another round of Ron gawking at his scar. Luckily, Harry made sure his fringe completely covered his scar moments before Ron's appearance.

Harry noted that Ron immediately lost interest in him compared to gaining interest. That made Harry curious; was Ron only being polite last time? Or was he only interested in him because Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived and someone his mum and perhaps Dumbledore told him to keep an eye on? Harry didn't like where his thoughts were going, but decided that he needed to keep some distance from the Weasleys for a while, while he sorted his thoughts out.

Almost immediately Ron started launching a conversation based on Quidditch and his favorite team, the Chudley Cannons. Hermione didn't seem the least bit interested and Harry knew why. To her, Quidditch was a violent sport. Neville on the other hand, was listening with wide eyes, no doubt trying his best to pay attention to someone who was actually willing to talk to him. Poor Neville… he never did have confidence…

Harry on the other hand, completely tuned Ron out, choosing to study Hermione as she quietly stared out at the passing scenery. He didn't remember her being this quiet or introverted before. It seemed as if Ron was never going to stop talking, so Harry quickly suggested they switch seats, which Ron didn't protest. Now that he was sitting by Hermione, he realized just how sad she looked. Harry's heart felt uneasy seeing his friend like this.

"So, how's the wizarding world for you? Since you've come from a muggle background like myself," said Harry, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

Hermione spared him a quick glance but returned her gaze to the window. "It's interesting," was all she said.

Harry felt frustrated. Talking and sitting with Hermione was never this awkward before, Harry noted.

"Um, what did you do before finding out you were a witch, Hermione?" Harry tried again.

Hermione, Harry noted, didn't hear him or purposely chose to ignore him. Harry liked to think it was the former. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, but taking care to ensure that his fringe covered his scar. "I don't suppose you know a Sally Summers, do you?"

Suddenly her head swiveled around so fast to face Harry, he was afraid that she was going to get whiplash. "How do you know her?" Hermione's voice was serious and Harry was slightly afraid of what that could mean.

"Um," he started out, unconsciously leaning away as her brown eyes bored into his. "She's my neighbor and babysitter."

Hermione's eyes suddenly never left his and Harry felt very uneasy. He had no idea what she was thinking and that was saying something since he was able to read Hermione very well back in his time. "She mentioned having a cousin named Hermione Granger. She said you were brilliant and are a university student…" Harry trailed off, feeling his cheeks redden in embarrassment for saying this much.

"She's like an older sister to me," Hermione started out quietly. "Usually she doesn't tell random strangers about me because I made her promise not to. Why did she tell you?" Her tone was accusatory and Harry felt his face starting to sweat.

Quiet Hermione was much scarier than bossy Hermione, Harry decided. "She um… uh… noticed that I was a bookworm," he squeaked. Oh Merlin, he squeaked! "And I reminded her of you!" he finished his fib, hoping against hope that the way she was staring at him won't alert her to his lie.

Her eyes continued to bore into him for what seemed like hours, but eventually she averted her gaze. "There must be something about you that she deems trustworthy." Her tone was no longer accusatory, but it held no warmth either.

Harry let out a nervous laugh. Oh yeah, quiet Hermione totally throws bossy Hermione out of the water when it come to scariness.

There was still hours to go before the train arrived at Hogwarts and Harry didn't exactly enjoy the idea of sitting in the compartment listening to Ron talk endlessly about Quidditch and other nonsensical things that no longer held his interest. Hermione on the other hand had returned to admiring the scenery outside the window. That was strange since Harry would've assumed that she'd be pouring through one of her textbooks. But as his eyes looked around the compartment, he noticed a small stack of books next to her and the window. Harry smiled wryly. It seemed that she was either reading before he had arrived or had decided to read later.

Harry slumped down in his seat and was about to ask a question in hopes to strike up a conversation again when he saw Malfoy and his goons through the compartment window. Harry hurriedly and wordlessly casted a _Confundus_ charm on the group of boys. Within seconds they passed by the compartment without even once looking in and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

He had a feeling that nothing good could come out of having Malfoy make an appearance; that and whenever Harry looked at Malfoy now, all he could see were the tears that streamed down his hollowed face through his dull grey eyes that had bags underneath them from countless nights of no sleep and from stress of his failed mission. Although Harry now knew the true reason why Malfoy had to do what he did, to appease the Dark Lord after their family had fallen out of the Dark Lord's graces, Harry couldn't help but resent and pity Malfoy at the same time. Their family had fallen so low that they had to resort to sending a teenage boy to kill his school headmaster, something Malfoy had been horrified and unable to do, using indirect yet failed methods instead.

When Harry turned to look at Hermione, he noticed that she had her eyes fixated on him and he grew nervous, not sure what to make of it. Did she see him cast the spell? He hoped she didn't because there would be many uncomfortable questions to answer. But judging from the way she was now studying him, straight down to the wand he had gripped in his hand, he knew that she had seen. He needed to divert her attention before the other two boys noticed what was happening.

Harry whispered a quick, "I promise I'll explain later," before rummaging through his bag for a small novel to read. The rest of the trip was rather unpleasant, much to Harry's chagrin. Although Hermione had picked up her own books to read, something Ron scrunched his nose at, Harry could feel her eyes watching him as he tried to read his novel. It took forever to get past a page with the uncomfortable gaze on him. During the trip Harry noticed Ron holding Scabbers in his hand tightly like Neville was holding Trevor and Harry scowled. How could he have missed Peter Pettigrew so easily? He wanted to hex that rat so badly his fingers were already curled around his wand before he snapped back to attention. It wouldn't do to have attention drawn to him now, Harry decided. Sulkily, Harry put away his wand and returned to his book. Finally, it was time to exit the train. After all four of them changed into their school robes, they climbed off the train, looking every which way for which they were supposed to follow.

A loud booming voice was calling out for first years and immediately knew who it was. He marched straight to Hagrid, where the giant gave him a toothy grin. "Harry Potter! My how ye' grown! I haven't seen ye since ye were a baby! I'm Hagrid, gatekeeper of Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet you, Hagrid," said Harry with a smile.

Hagrid smiled at Harry. "I'll be expectin' to see you a lot this year, Harry. Now, come along," said Hagrid, leading Harry in a certain direction. "First years!" he called to the crowd.

Hermione was right behind him, which Harry found a bit unnerving at this point. Usually he wouldn't mind, but at this point both he and Hermione had yet to become friends. When Ron and Neville caught up a short while later, they had already missed Hagrid's short introduction.

The rest of the first years climbed onto the boats. Harry noted wryly that Hermione was practically glued to him at this point, no doubt to ensure he kept his promise. It wasn't like he had that many places in Hogwarts to hide, but now that he actually thought about it, he did and Harry snickered to himself.

The boat ride to Hogwarts was as breathtaking as he remembered it.

When they arrived at the castle, Harry once again met up with Professor McGongall and she looked as stern as ever. Despite her stern appearance, Harry knew that she had a soft spot for her cubs even though she treated every house fairly unlike Snape, Harry thought bitterly.

After being briefed about the sorting process (Harry snickered at Ron's outburst of Trolls and killing his twin brothers) and meeting the ghosts, the first years were left to wait. Unfortunately, it was the perfect opportunity for Malfoy to approach Harry, now that the _Confundus_ had worn off.

"Harry Potter," drawled Malfoy as he neared Harry, with the ever present goons, Crabbe and Goyle, at his side.

Ron, having caught Malfoy's greeting gaped in shock as he turned to look at Harry. Harry ignored Ron and stared confidently back at Malfoy, ready to refuse his offer.

"I'm Draco Malfoy and these two buffoons are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," said Malfoy. Malfoy briefly cast a look around the group of people around Harry and sneered, his eyes lasting longer on Hermione than others.

Harry purposely took a step in front of Hermione, keeping a distance between Malfoy and Hermione.

"There are some wizarding families that are better than others which you'll soon discover, Potter. I can help you from associating with the wrong sort," Malfoy said pointedly looking at Hermione. Malfoy was as pompous as ever, Harry noted. What a great difference Malfoy had been at the end compared to now…

Harry glared at the blonde-haired boy. "I'm afraid I'll have to refuse your offer, Malfoy. I prefer the freedom to choose who I associate with."

Malfoy bristled but said nothing else as it was time for the first years to enter the Great Hall. The glaring match had to be interrupted when they were the remaining students left outside and Hermione had to literally drag Harry away.

They entered the Great Hall, ignoring all the curious whispers and looks as they passed.

McGonagall placed a stool, where a great pointy and very old hat lay, in the front of the Hall. Once McGonagall started calling names, each of the first years marched up to be sorted and Harry noticed with annoyance that Ron was tugging on his arm and whispering urgently, "Why didn't you tell me you were _Harry Potter_!"

Harry tried to shrug Ron off, but he proved persistent.

"He never told you that he _wasn't_ Harry Potter," Hermione pointed out.

Ron scowled at her and Harry tugged his arm free during Ron's diverted attention, thanking Hermione for the distraction.

Harry had been afraid that Hermione was going to be sorted into Ravenclaw, but breathed a sigh of relief when she was sorted into Gryffindor again. There were a lot of things Harry needed her advice on once he gained her trust and explained the whole time-travel story to her.

When it was time for Harry to be sorted, Harry feared that he might not be sorted into Gryffindor again. Luckily the hat, though curious as to Harry's very unorganized brain which Harry blamed due to that strange time-travel phenomenon, decided in the end that Gryffindor would be the best house to suit him and his purposes.

Harry hopped off the stool, replacing the hat and immediately took up the space Hermione had purposely saved for him. Harry very much doubted he would be able to lose Hermione even if he wanted to at this stage, unless he took a few secret passages…

Thankfully after Ron joined the table, Harry was separated from the scowling red-head by a few other students.

The rest of the feast went by pretty much how Harry remembered, though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. One thing Harry noticed was that his scar no longer hurt when he even so much as glanced at Professor Quirrell. He furrowed his brows in thought. Did that mean that the horcrux inside his scar was gone? Harry sure hoped so, but dreaded the possibility of having no way out of death now. He gulped.

Grabbing a chicken leg, Harry placed a few of Hermione's favorite foods on her plate unconsciously and he didn't realize his slip until she shot him a strange and suspicious look. He had been helping his friends grab food so often that he knew their favorites by heart and it had become an ingrained habit that he cursed his slip. When desert came, Harry purposely paid attention to what he was doing, though that shouldn't have been a concern considering Hermione stayed away from the sweets anyway.

It was when they were heading into the Gryffindor common room and then their dorms that Hermione had pointedly told him to meet her in the common room in half an hour. Harry groaned, but agreed.

Harry was sort of disappointed that his four poster bed was next to Ron's as he expected, but didn't say anything. He went about changing into his pajamas and brushed his teeth. When he came back from the bathroom, he noticed that most of the boys were dressed for bed but looked nothing like they were about to sleep anytime soon. Neville, Harry noted, was ignored now that Ron had met the other boys, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Ron refused to so much as acknowledge Harry, but made Harry wonder if that will change later on.

Harry waited in the common room twirling his wand absent-mindedly in one hand with Neville by his side after convincing him to join him.

"What are we doing down here for?" asked Neville, watching the wand twirling.

Harry glanced at his wrist watch. He still marveled at owning one. "There's something I need to tell Hermione and you, so sit tight for a bit, mate."

Neville nodded and continued to look around the common room, studying the décor for a while before Hermione appeared down the steps from the girl's dorm. Luckily, the other Gryffindors were up in the dorms, no doubt tired from the long train ride to school.

"Fancy seeing you here, Hermione," said Harry with a grin.

She didn't say anything, merely taking a seat in the free armchair beside Harry.

"Hello, Hermione," Neville greeted.

"Hello, Neville," she returned, much to Harry's annoyance. Hermione turned to Harry and Harry could swear that her eyes could read his mind, except he knew that she wasn't a Legilimens.

"So…" Harry started out awkwardly. "Where to begin?"

"Start out with how you knew something as advanced as the _Confundus_ charm. As far as I know, that is not in the first year curriculum and you've been raised as a muggle with no extra training or exposure to magic before the reception of your Hogwarts acceptance letter," Hermione stated bluntly.

Great… leave Hermione to find every little plot hole there was in his story. When Neville turned to Harry with curious eyes, Harry sighed. He supposed that now would be as great a time as ever to delve into his life's tale. What fun that would be…

Harry quickly cast a _muffliato_ for some privacy much to Neville's surprise. Hermione didn't look surprised at all.

"H-how'd you do that!" exclaimed Neville, eyes wide in awe.

Harry gave Neville a small smile and said, "A simple muffling like spell." He turned his gaze over to Hermione who had a calculating look about her. He sighed and ran his hand tiredly through his messy raven locks. "Right… first things first. I am Harry James Potter, which you two should know by now. My name's been plastered all throughout the Prophet for who knows how long and in a multitude of books. What people don't know is… I'm from another universe."

Neville was silent, as if not comprehending what Harry had just said. Hermione on the other hand merely looked intrigued.

"Is there proof of you being in another universe before I write you off as mental?" Hermione said sweetly.

Harry scowled at her. This was not the time for jokes and yet she treated him as one. Great… just what he needed… the one person he thought he could trust most definitely thought he was a loon. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn't owl her over the summer after all.

"I don't exactly have anything on me that I could use as proof. But it seems so far only minor changes have taken place from the universe I've come from. For instance, I lived with my Aunt, Uncle, and cousin who could barely stand the sight of me. In this universe, I live only with my aunt who treats me like her real son. As flattering as that has been it still creeps me out sometimes since I'm still getting used to the situation. The Hermione Jean Granger I know," Hermione perked up at the mention of her and her full name which she had never told Harry, "most likely hadn't attended university but came straight to Hogwarts from primary school." Harry chanced a quick look at Hermione. "And she was a lot bossier," he added as an afterthought, reflexively bringing his arms up as protection in case Hermione hit him, which she did.

"The Neville Longbottom I knew, well I'm rather embarrassed to say that I hadn't bothered to learn much about him at first but later learned that he was a great friend. I just know that his parents were driven insane by Bellatrix Lestrange and they are currently still at St. Mungo's," Harry said softly, mindful of Neville's feelings.

"Not as much attention has been paid to my parents compared to the Potters since you were named the Boy-Who-Lived," commented Neville quietly, "but here's where this universe differs from yours. My parents were also murdered by You-Know-Who…"

Harry blinked in surprise, not expecting that twist. "I… I'm sorry."

Neville waved off the sympathy. "It's all right. I've had my whole life to deal with the loss. Besides you're in the same shoes as me minus the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing."

Harry nodded morosely. "Either way, they were great people from what I've heard." He looked to the two people beside him and smiled softly. "You two were some of the best friends I've had in my life along with Ron and Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister, and Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw girl a year below us. Most of our adventures up until fourth year were between Hermione, Ron, and I, but soon afterwards during our fifth year, Neville, Luna, and Ginny started taking a bigger part in our adventures. It was thanks to you lot that Hogwarts lasted as long as it did when the Death Eaters," Harry noticed how Neville flinched but Hermione remained stoic, "took over the school."

Harry then proceeded to tell them about what happened in his universe all the way up to the showdown with Voldemort in the forest. "And then the next thing I know, I'm here in this universe."

Hermione remained deep in thought. It was a lot of information to take in after all. "What if this isn't actually another universe?"

Harry was confused. "What do you mean?"

Hermione straightened up in her chair. "While the possibility of you arriving in another universe is certainly plausible, I'm attempting to entertain the idea of what your arrival in this time has caused. Say by you traveling back in time, you caused a wrinkle which in turn caused several events, though minor, to be altered from what you remember them to be. You mentioned seeing Professor Dumbledore now that you thought back a little more, correct?" Harry nodded. "What if, when Professor Dumbledore was sending you back to living world to finish off Voldemort, something went amiss and as a result sent you barreling back in time?"

"But how would that explain how I still have the other Harry's memories? I assume that if I had been sent back in time, that I probably won't even have them, especially if I'm from another universe," Harry pointed out.

"That may be true, but you still have something else to consider. Your physical body was not sent back in time, otherwise you'd be seventeen right now," said Hermione.

Harry nodded. He'd enjoy being taller and stronger again rather being an eleven year old right now.

"Don't quote me on this," said Hermione, "but what if your consciousness instead of being sent to your body back in the forest was somehow sent to the past by mistake. The other Harry's mind would still be present but your arrival and consciousness being more dominant took control. For all you know, your mannerisms right now could be a mix of yours and the Harry from this time, but since you are in control you probably haven't noticed."

Both Harry and Neville were scratching their heads at this point. "Just blow my alternate universe theory out of the water, why don't you," muttered Harry.

"Well, if you were from another universe, it's possible that they'd be two Harrys right now. One from this universe and one from the other since a person's existence should not be changed with the arrival of another unless it was the result of dire circumstances such as one passing away or being murdered before the arrival of the other, but seeing as there's only one Harry here, I could only assume that time travel would be a more plausible explanation," finished Hermione.

All this while Harry could only stare at Hermione as if she was speaking Greek, which she might as well have. Then again this feeling wasn't new so it was easy to shrug off. Neville on the other hand looked as if his head was spinning. Harry clapped the boy's shoulder and said reassuringly, "It's okay, mate. I don't understand half of what she says either."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes.

"You know, for someone who's so skeptical of me being mental, you sure are taking this rather calmly and with an open mind," Harry realized.

"It's like you said, I'm keeping an open mind. Until I find something to prove or disprove what you've told me, I'll continue on as if nothing has happened," she commented, standing up from the armchair. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's rather late and I must be off to bed now."

"You can't tell anyone what I've told you!" Harry called out to her retreating form. She merely raised a hand casually as acquiesce. Harry turned to Neville. "You too, Neville."

Neville nodded his head in understanding.

Harry let out a ragged sigh, thoroughly exhausted after the long explanation. Now all three of them had to learn Occlumency to prevent the wrong people from reading their minds. Ugh, thought Harry. He had his work cut out for him.

* * *

**A/N: As promised, this chapter is longer than the last. I want to make a note that no, I am not a Weasley basher at all. I am also not a Weasley lover either. So most of the time I will try to stay in the neutral ground or as close to the neutral ground as possible. **

**I'm sure there are a lot of time travel stories out there that has Harry completely re-live his first year and so on. That's not what I'm having Harry do here as will be seen in the following chapters. **

**Also, to answer one reviewer's question about Hermione's acceptance to University, the answer is yes. Hermione has passed all the requirements needed in order to be accepted in University. I'm pretty sure that you should have also spotted some other character differences in this chapter.**


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